Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He sighed. “There is so much truth to that, that I won’t argue.”
With a smirk, I sent a text to Laurel. She was a strawberry-blonde who served drinks at the strip club we went to in Atlanta regularly. Close enough to red. It wasn’t the dark copper of Briar’s hair, but in the dark, that didn’t really matter. I headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sebastian called out.
“To get my dick sucked.”
“Wait up! You headed to the club?”
“Yeah,” I replied, not stopping.
“Let me check on the new jockey, and I’ll go with you.”
“Hurry,” I shot back as I stopped at my leather jacket I’d left hanging on the hook and took out my pack of Reds before heading to the truck outside.
I’d get my fill of tits and ass while sinking my dick in a couple of mouths and pussies. This Briar Landry shit in my head would be forgotten by the time the sun came up tomorrow.
Lighting up the cigarette I’d stuck between my lips, I waited for Sebastian to talk to the jockey. He needed to speed this shit up. I wasn’t in the mood to get stuck in rush-hour traffic. Leaning against the truck, I crossed my ankles and inhaled deeply. If only this took the edge off like it once had. Now, it was only a habit.
Sebastian tilted his head, and I could see a smile curl his lips. He was fucking flirting. Shaking my head, I finished the cigarette, then tossed it down before covering it with my boot.
Looking back out at Sebastian, I lifted my hands up and yelled, “You coming or not?”
He turned his head and looked over my way, then nodded.
Rolling my eyes, I jerked open the truck door and climbed inside. Sebastian and his Casanova ways were entertaining at times, but right now, I was ready to go. He loved charming a female almost as much as he loved fucking them. They always fell for his clean-cut look, love of books, how he could quote lines from literature, his expensive sports cars, and how he gave them his complete attention. Knowing the bastard was just trying to fuck them.
He said his goodbyes to the jockey and jogged toward the truck. She must not be pretty enough to keep his attention if he still wanted to go to the club. Rolling down the window, I lit up another cigarette as he climbed in the passenger seat.
“Not gonna fuck that one, huh?” I asked.
He shrugged. “No, not that one. She’s not worth pissing Dad off.”
I nodded. Smart. If she was that good with Bloodline that King was impressed, then Sebastian fucking her and tossing her would end up with us losing a jockey. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.
“Is she hot enough to get Thatcher’s attention? Because he won’t give a rat’s ass about pissing off your dad.”
Sebastian chuckled. “Not Capri. He’d never go there. She’s not his type.”
Now, he had my attention.
“You know her?”
He shrugged. “Not really. She’s our age, and she grew up in town, but she was homeschooled. Her dad is the minister at the Methodist church. I dated a friend of hers once years ago. Anyway, she’s the religious sort. She does volunteer work, sings at her church in the choir and shit. Real sweet though.”
I grinned and took another pull from the cigarette. He was right. Thatcher and his demons wouldn’t get anywhere near her. She’d try to pray for his soul or some shit. The idea was funny though.
• Eleven •
“I see it’s real nice and friendly down here in Miami.”
Briar
This was my first night playing at my new job. We’d made it to Miami two weeks ago, and I’d decided, for now, we needed to stay here, where hiding was easy. Dovie was tucked safely in our new apartment; although it didn’t have a security guard, it was in a nice area. There was a burger place right across the street in a little shopping complex that also had a bookstore. Dovie loved going to eat there, and then we’d go to the bookstore, where she would spend hours.
The stack of bills that Bash had given me came to three thousand two hundred dollars. Way more than he’d owed me, and I would pay him back. It had given me time to get settled in with Dovie and make sure staying here was the right move. I could already tell that the beach bar I had gotten a job at got a lot of bikers. The place was nice. Clean and classy even. The fact that it was full of mostly bikers was odd, but this was Miami, and life was different down here.
Paradise Brew also didn’t sound like a place where men and women in leather and tattoos wanted to hang out. Pepper Abe was the owner, and although she was young and attractive, she was feisty. I’d seen her talk to some of these rough-looking men like they were children. I liked her. She had their respect, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t envious of her. No one treated her like she was just a piece of ass they wanted to own or control. They treated her as if she were an equal.